


Game On

by frozenfoxfire (dadcastellanos)



Series: In Our Dreams, We Can Be Complete [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadcastellanos/pseuds/frozenfoxfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is Tony's dirty little secret - one he can count on to be easy and reliable. One he doesn't have to think too hard about. That changes permanently the day Loki gets hurt.</p><p>Mentions of Black Widow, Hawkeye and Captain America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game On

**Author's Note:**

> written for staying-alive-is-so-boring on Tumblr. there's some blood in the beginning but it's not too terribly violent. written while listening to Halo by Bloc Party. sorry if it's lame =_=;;;

It happens in slow motion, and at first all he can see is a flash of red hair and a primal thrust; the Asgardian knife goes through the midsection of Loki thanks to Black Widow, the blade still in his hands, before Tony can get to them. Blood touched his lips, and he stuttered, stumbling back a step, hands visibly shaking against the hilt of the knife.

They'd been fighting in close combat. Tony had seen them from the air, and knew exactly what was about to happen. It was the fourth time this year that Loki'd attacked, and this time around, Natasha Romanov was not fucking playing around. The last time, he'd gotten Clint hurt - desperately hurt; it was entirely accidental, he'd just hit Clint too hard and Clint had hit a building even harder - and no one got Clint hurt without the destructive retribution Natasha handed out like candy. She was ruthless. If something could bleed, she could find a way to make it, and as Loki had recently adopted dual daggers as his choice of weapon, she'd basically been handed the ability to.

Tony doesn't hear the enraged, pained cry that spills from his lips. He doesn't even realize he's heading straight for the Black Widow, full-tilt, in the suit, before he's already skidding to a halt besides Loki, who's dropped to one knee, hunched over the blade in his body. Natasha manages to leap out of the way before Tony lands, and is glaring at him in a crouch nearby, her face confused. 

"What the hell are you doing, Stark?" Cap's angry voice demands, filling his ear, but Tony ignores him, grabbing Loki by the shoulders and dropping to one knee beside him. The faceplate of his helmet snaps up. "Watch where you're flying! You almost hit Widow!"

"I'm fine," she replies, but Tony barely hears her.

"Are you okay? What do you need?" Tony murmurs, his eyes wide and worried, and Loki looks up at him, looking the most vulnerable Tony has ever seen, involuntary tears staining his face. There's blood on his lips. There's blood down his chin. _Oh, God._

"I..." Loki manages, but he coughs and more blood spills from his mouth.

"I'm getting him help," Tony snaps into the helmet as the faceplate slides back into place, JARVIS already murmuring in his ear about prepared sick rooms and stand-by nurses. Before anyone can protest he's already muted the communications, gathered Loki's crumpled form in his arms and taken off.

\---

He looks so wan and thin against the white sheets, the white lights, the white room. His eyes are closed, his already pale skin is ghastly white, his breathing is shallow and in all honesty he looks dead, but the machines surrounding him assure Tony he's as okay as he can be. His heart is beating, his blood is pumping, and he's alive. The machines say he'll pull through. The nurses insist he'll survive. Tony barely notices them, sick with worry. It's been about two days since the fight, and Loki still hasn't woken up. He's hot to the touch constantly, feverish, with a higher body temperature than humans could stand, but his skin is clammy and hasn't once become any darker than corpse-white. 

The nurses insist his body is healing.

"The knife entered here," the nurse had said, pointing, "and was angled up, like this." She demonstrates. "It pierced his lung, after entering his stomach. Asgardians, though, have an unbelievable tolerance to wounds, and a god-like ability to heal. From what I understand, if it hadn't been an Asgardian knife, he would have been fine. As it stands, he should pull through." 

He could have drowned. His stomach had to be pieced back together. His insides had to be mopped up. His lung had to be patched. He'd barely survived. He was lucky to be alive. He was lucky he had a better healing factor than humans. He was lucky Tony had been there.

He was lucky.

Tony growls, his head making a slight thump as it hits the glass window in the wall keeping them apart. He stares at the man, looking small in the whiteness despite his long, lanky body, inspecting him. Inspecting his lips, which Tony can remember the feel of, against his own lips, his ear, his neck, his chest. Inspecting his bandaged chest, which Tony can almost feel under his fingertips, faintly warm, smooth, covered in sweat. Inspecting his hands, which Tony wishes were laced with his again, warm and strong and desperate.

"Fuck," Tony mutters angrily, and steps away from the window, stalking down the hall.

The medical floor of Stark Tower is extensive, just like everything else in Stark Tower, and functions almost as its own little hospital. He spared no expense on the rooms, equipment, and staff, knowing full well one day either he or his teammates would need the help. He knew, going into this whole thing, that someday, he'd have to spend time near someone's bedside, willing them to heal, losing sleep, forgetting to eat. 

Kind of funny, now that it's here, that it happens to be Loki, the same asshole who tried to destroy the world, the same guy who keeps attacking them when they least expect it, that he's losing sleep over, and not one of the Avengers.

Not that it's out of his habit to lose sleep where Loki is concerned, though it was usually _with_ Loki. He couldn't remember the day that marked the first time they'd had sex. It'd been months and months ago. A year, maybe? Two? He wasn't sure. Time had flown so fast once the Avengers had decided to stick together, once more super-villains showed up and Loki had become more of a problem (again). He remembered simply asking JARVIS to raise the lights one night, and almost dropped the glass in his hand when he realized someone was sitting in his bed.

" _Shit,_ " Tony hissed, taking a step back and slamming his back against the door, his hand flying to the command panel on the wall beside it.

"Stop," Loki commanded, fixing him with an intense look, one hand out as if the gesture would somehow stop him. Tony froze, glowering at Loki. "Please. I'm not here to fight."

"Why are you here?" Tony breathed. He didn't bother asking how - Loki usually defied all reason. Tony's eyes snapped to the right of the bed, panicked. His Colantotte bracelets, the ones Pepper had gotten him ages ago that he'd improved and connected to the Mark VII, were over on the bedside table, where he'd left them literally one minute before. There was no way he'd have made it to them before Loki caught him. 

Though, they didn't look like they'd been touched. In fact, the only difference in the room was that there was an ivory-skinned man sitting naked under the covers of his bed. Tony frowned, relaxing slightly, peeling himself off the wall and taking a quick sip of the scotch in his glass.

"I... honestly, I'm not sure," Loki replied quietly, and for a split second he looked like a truly lost creature. That look was instantly replaced with deviousness, a half-smirk and hooded eyes that screamed _come closer_. "I was hoping you might, perhaps, join me."

"Join you," Tony deadpanned. 

"Oh, yes," Loki purred in reply, leaning forward where he sat in Tony's bed, who suddenly realized just how very naked Loki was. "You were impressive in battle today."

"Really," Tony deadpans again; he took a few steps forward despite himself, his knees against the edge of the bed. Curious, his fingertips brushed the top sheet, and he raised an eyebrow at Loki.

"Oh, _yes_ ," Loki repeated, and began to crawl across the bed towards Tony, his long, muscled, lanky body sensual at every move. "I've never quite fit in with the majority of Asgardians," Loki murmured, "in most respects, but especially in that I rather enjoy having either sex in my bed." He took Tony's hand, touching fingertips to his lips, sultry eyes meeting Tony's. 

Tony stared at him for a moment.

"Won't you consider joining me?" Loki whispered, his tongue snaking out and sliding along the length of Tony's middle finger.

It took Tony maybe about a minute. "Okay," he shrugged, and he downed the scotch, set the glass on the floor, ripped the shirt off his body and shoved Loki back onto the bed. 

To this day, he still couldn't articulate why he'd agreed to it. He could blame it on the fact he and Pepper had drifted and eventually broke apart since the whole invasion thing, and especially since he'd moved the team into Stark Tower. The whole diving-into-space-with-a-nuke thing had really set her off, and while he understood (and agreed) he couldn't stop doing things that were dangerous just because it was terrifying. She wanted him, but not Iron Man, and the two were one and the same.

(Thankfully, she was still his secretary. His life probably would have fallen apart if she'd left, and she made sure he knew it every day at least once.)

He could have blamed it on pretty much anything, really. Honestly, he didn't care for a reason. It was some of the best sex he'd ever had. It didn't bother him. The idea of being caught only scared him because he didn't want Thor to beat the shit out of him, no matter how many times Loki assured him that wasn't Thor's way. 

They'd met every time after a fight. Loki would suddenly be there, tongue on Tony's neck as he worked on the helmet, or furious sex in the bathroom while Tony's wiping the blood off his face. Sometimes out of the blue, Loki would drop in on him, which he especially enjoyed doing while Tony was totally off-guard: in the shower, asleep at night, in his workshop, visible in the window to only Tony during a thinktank session with Bruce (bastard really knew how to work a strip tease). Every single time, it'd been a step above the last time, with each man learning the other's hidden kinks and preferences. Once, Loki'd come to him as a woman, and though it had its benefits, Tony had asked him not to repeat the experience.

"Why not?" he'd asked, barely covered in a sheet as he lay beside Tony, who sat on the edge of the bed. "I thought that form might be more, ah.. pleasurable for you."

"Because I want you for you, not who you think I want you to be. Why?" Tony'd replied, looking down at him. 

"I..." Loki frowned, clearly uncomfortable. He fidgeted. "I must confess, I'm not... used to sleeping with a man who isn't bothered by the fact I prefer to keep my male form. Asgardians are not exactly known for their sexual proclivities."

"Doesn't bother me."

"For all intents and purposes, you very much seem to prefer women. What makes me different?"

Tony shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, I think so," Loki replied quietly, watching Tony closely.

"Well, then, I'm sorry, but I'll have to disappoint. I don't have a reason for it. I didn't think I needed one."

"And it doesn't bother you."

"Not a damn bit. I wouldn't have been with you if it bothered me. Look, you're the number one biggest enemy of the Avengers and I kind of happen to be one of the guys who controls the team." He paused, raised an eyebrow. "I don't really have any reason. I'm just interested in you. If it bothers you, you could say I'm straight and Lokisexual."

"Lokisexual?" Loki snorted, smiling. "That is ridiculous."

"So is the idea that I have to say I'm one thing or another just because other people think I do, or confining myself to one flavor when I wanna try them all." Tony laid back, smiling at Loki. "It's not as complicated as our society likes to say it is. You like someone or you don't. It's not really something to freak over."

"Hmmm," Loki intoned, lacing his fingers through Tony's, cocking his head. "But you did like it?"

"I like you, baby. C'mere."

Eventually, something shifted between them. Eventually, the sex was less frenzied and more passionate, involved, time-consuming, all-encompassing. One night, Tony glanced down at Loki's flushed face and sweaty body, writhing beneath him, arching his hips up into his lover's, and he was struck breathless. This was a person he wanted at his side, for as long as he could imagine, and that _terrified_ him. The idea was so insane, and impossible to make a reality, and... 

but it was intoxicating, just for that moment. He paused, and Loki's eyes fluttered open, fixing on Tony's. Something connected between them. Suddenly, they were closer than they'd ever been. There wasn't enough of Tony against Loki, and he shifted his body to more fully feel him. He leaned down and kissed Loki, hard, taking his time and tasting the man. He slowed his pace into something delectably slow, his lips hanging on Loki's, tasting and feeling every low, desperate moan until they both came.

They didn't ever talk about that connection.

It was simple, what they had. Loki would show up, they'd have one or two bouts of amazing sex, and Loki would leave. There was nothing more to it. It was animalistic, passionate, unique, secret. Making it into anything else would overcomplicate things. It'd get hard to explain to the Avengers. SHIELD might try to exploit it, on either side - force Tony to comply somehow, maybe, by capturing Loki, or using Tony to keep Loki in line, or... God knows what they'd do, really. 

Not to mention, Thor would probably lose his shit, and Tony didn't need that.

As badly as he wanted it, it was simply an impossibility. He couldn't afford to have Loki. He couldn't afford to enter into any relationship, let alone one this.. explosive.

He could really afford to let it go, either.

"Tony?"

The sudden voice startled him, and he looked over. He was standing in the elevator, and couldn't recall entering it. God knows how long he'd been just standing in it. Had it been moving? Did he put in a floor number and then forget to get off?

"Yeah," he murmurs, still somewhat distracted, barely noticing Bruce as he leaned against the elevator wall beside Tony.

"You okay?" Bruce asked, voice as quiet and even as always. "I heard about what happened the other morning."

More and more, the Hulk had been making demands of Bruce that, frankly, made everyone, even Bruce, nervous, including but not limited to more time in control of their body, and so he'd been involved less and less with the more hands-on side of the Avengers, preferring to spend time in the laboratories of Stark Tower, doing research and keeping an eye on the team as a whole. He was like their own little research gopher out in the field, and had been endlessly useful, keeping them informed of changes or complications. It suited Bruce and Tony both just fine, and the rest of the Avengers didn't complain. Unfortunately, that also meant Bruce had been more and more stir-crazy as the days passed. He spent a lot of his time with Tony these days. 

Tony realized he'd been neglecting Bruce for the past two days, and a sharp pang of guilt settled in his stomach, on top of everything else.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tony sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. "I just sort've... lost it."

"Isn't Clint still in the infirmary?"

"Yeah. Kind of. Romanov keeps taking him out and around."

"What happened to him? Broken ribs, broken leg, concussion, right?"

" _Yes_ , Bruce." He's loath to admit it, but he's short of patience today, no matter how long it's been since he gave Bruce his due. "But he's out of bed as much as he can be. It's been almost a month." 

"Oh. Yeah." Bruce stares at the floor for a moment, his hands in his pockets, before speaking again. "You sure you okay?"

"As okay as I'm going to be."

"I'm here if you want to talk."

"I know."

"..You know, it's pretty obvious what you've been up to with Loki, right?"

"What?" Tony can't help the sudden fear in his voice.

"I'm just saying. I think Thor and Steve are the only ones who haven't figured it out yet. That, or they're just playing dumb for whatever reason." Bruce shrugs. "Every time you go toe to toe with him, that night you're just gone. Sometimes your room smells like snow. Sometimes you have these marks on your neck or body and you don't seem to notice, or you try to hide them - stuff like that. Pepper hasn't been with you, and no one's seen you with anyone, so it was just sort've a.. natural conclusion, I guess." A beat. "Plus you've been with him constantly since Widow stabbed him."

"You haven't seen me with anyone and you just assume I'm with Loki?" He also can't help the incredulity. "Cmon. Doesn't that seem like a long shot?"

"You pull your punches and you've kept your personal life private. Those are two things you don't do for anyone else, ever." Bruce fixes him with a look that just drips _Tony, please_.

Tony stares at him for a moment, and bursts into stressed laughter. "Wow, okay. Sure. You got me," he murmurs, letting out a breath.

"How long?" 

"I don't remember. It's... been a while."

"Is it serious?" Bruce asks, his voice dead serious, and Tony looks at him for a long moment.

"I don't know," Tony mutters, and looks away. "I think so."

"Really?"

"Yeah." It almost feels like a weight off his chest, admitting it.

"Wow. Okay. So. What now?"

"I don't know. I ... didn't mean to flip on Romanov, and now he's barely alive in my infirmary and half the team won't talk to me, and I just... I just want to take him away from here. I guess. I don't know. I think I'm losing it."

He doesn't want to look at Bruce, but he does, and is met with a soft smile and sad eyes. "I wish I could help. You're not leaving the Avengers, right?"

Tony snorts. "Are you joking? This is my goddamn house. I'm not going anywhere."

"Maybe he could join us?"

"I don't think he ever would. That's the thing. We can't come out with this like it's some official thing- the world would flip. Thor would flip. SHIELD would immediately try to get their fingers in our business. I don't... want him to leave. I need him." Tony swallows. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows they're true. He's never been so sure of something before without so much as a thought before. "..I need him. And so far this is the only way I can have him, but.. Fuck, I don't know."

Bruce is silent, thoughtful. 

"He's just... it's amazing," Tony continues, incapable of stopping himself. Bruce isn't talking, so everything just comes falling out of him, built up over months and months of silence. "When I'm with him, everything sort've calms down in my head, and I can think straight. He's so willing to learn what I like and I know almost everything he does, and we, just, I don't know.. I guess we work really well together, which doesn't make any fucking sense, because it- it just _doesn't_ , and I can't believe I'm actually so taken with him because this is Loki, this is the asshole who tried to take over the world, and-"

"Tony," Bruce says quietly, and Tony stutters and looks at him. "I don't think this will work."

"I know," Tony replies, almost whispering. "God, I know. I just... I just want.."

"I know," Bruce replies. "I'm sorry."

They're silent for the rest of the ride. Bruce gets off on the floor his lab is located, and pauses, holding the door. "I'm really sorry, Tony."

"Thanks," Tony manages, his voice quiet and hurt, before stabbing the number the hospital was on. Bruce looks at him sadly, letting the door go.

When he returns to Loki's room, he's surprised to find him fully awake, glaring at the end of the bed. Tony enters his room, taking the seat closest to his bed. The second he enters, Loki's eyes are on him, shadowed and intense. 

"Hey, babe." Tony tries to sound neutral, or even optimistic, but all he can manage is desolate. _Fucking awesome._

"Are you all right?" Loki croaks in reply.

"Me?" A forced laugh. " _You_ , with the gaping chest wound, are asking _me_ if I'm okay?"

"You look troubled," Loki murmurs, and moves his hand to where Tony's rests on his bed, brushing Tony's fingers with his own.

"I am a little bit, yeah. It's not like you tried to die on me or anything."

"I didn't think it was possible for that woman to best me with _my own knives_ ," Loki replies bitterly, his voice dark.

"She's good. She's _damn_ good." Tony gives him a look that says _cut it out with the bigotry_ and Loki looks away, lips pursed. "Besides, that's one of her talents. She can turn anything against anyone, even if it's theirs to begin with. The day she learns how to hack into JARVIS, I'm fucked." He laughs a little, but it sounds forced too, and he looks away, gripping Loki's hand as hard as he dares.

"You're lying to me," Loki says quietly, and Tony looks back into those piercing eyes and crumples a little under them.

"I don't think I can make this work," he replies, his voice weak and quiet, and Loki just stares. "I've been thinking about it. I just.. I want you, so badly, and I can't have you."

"Why not?" Loki asks evenly.

"Because SHIELD. Because the Avengers. Because a thousand different little reasons. Because Thor, and New York, and ... everything." The last word comes out as a breath, and he lays his head on Loki's hand.

"Come away with me. We can run throughout the Realms." Loki almost sounds optimistic, but his voice is quiet, as if he doesn't feel it. As if he knows Tony can't, or won't.

"You know I can't do that," Tony replies sadly. "I want to, so badly. I do. But I can't. You know I can't."

"I know," Loki murmurs, and looks down. "Please don't leave."

"I don't know what to do." Tony lifts his head, meeting Loki's eyes, and he can see a quiet, hungry desperation there.

"You can't leave. You can't." Loki's voice is rising, and the machines spike somewhat, with the stress. "You're the first partner I've had that hasn't left every night. You haven't cursed at me. You haven't been afraid to be with me. You haven't been ashamed of me."

"Loki, please. Breathe, calm down. It's okay." His automatic reaction is to help Loki, to stop his pain. He wonders how long that's been automatic. "I just.. don't know what to do."

They're both quiet for a while, simply enjoying the other's presence. Loki strokes Tony's hand, from back to tips of fingers and over his palm, making his skin tingle. Tony presses his lips to Loki's hand and up his wrist. He savors the unique smell on Loki's skin, the mix between ice and fire-smoke and leather that always seems to linger on him. Loki gives a quiet, sad little moan. 

"There has to be a way," he whispers.

"I don't know," Tony murmurs.

"..Can't I stay with you, instead?" Loki asks, more optimism than before.

"I don't know how," Tony starts, mind working furiously to think of every possibility.

"I am skilled in many illusionary magics- I could stay with you, invisible," Loki tries. "Or, I could take another guise. I could pretend to be another girl of yours. Someone you recently met, and are enamored with."

"I.. I don't want you to hide. I want you for who you are. I don't want you to be forced to pretend to be someone else."

"Then I won't." Loki's voice is so sure, so certain, so intense that Tony stares at him. "If you want me to be who I am, then I shall. I see no reason to hide."

"Are you joking." 

"Do I look to be?" Loki regards Tony coolly. "Do you want me by your side?"

"Yes," Tony replies cautiously.

"And I, you at mine. Why should we compromise? Why should we hide, simply because _someone else thinks we should?_ "

Tony's struck speechless again; his face breaks into a smile. 

"Game on," Tony murmurs, and leans over for a kiss.


End file.
